Don't Overheat Your Coolsink
by Cynopsis
Summary: Sephiroth tries to fix his computer.


Square-Enix owns all rights to Final Fantasy VII and its affiliated characters.

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**Don't Overheat Your Coolsink**

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**Had it been any tangible foe, one comprised of physical existence, the matter would have been resolved instantly with the best way he knew how: a few slashes of the blade. Had it been any opponent, he or she would have been taken care within a matter of seconds with his impressive swordplay. Had it been anyone… 

But this was not anyone, nor anything. This was something far greater and more conniving that he was dealing with. Something emerging from the deep, black confines of the mysterious unknown dubbed the 'virtual world' by tech savvies alike.

Error 307. Error 307 was the root of the problem. Error 307 was here to stay. Error 307 left the great leader of SOLDIER baffled.

Sephiroth frowned, producing a ripple of light wrinkles atop his forehead as he heaved a great impatient sigh before reading the message for the umpteenth time.

_ERROR 307: HARDWARE INCOMPATABILITY FROM I/0 RANGE EC00-EC6T DETECTED._

And directly below, he was given the same three options of 'Cancel', 'Abort' or 'Retry' that he had clicked on before fervently numerous times.

Hitting the 'Esc' key had had done nothing but serve to spring the same annoying grey rectangular box with the dark blue stripe up top again. That hideous box hell bent on mocking him until eternity it seemed. It would derive pleasure in his suffering. He knew it. Over and over, the amount of times the same ruthless message had appeared was enough to drive a man to the brink of insanity.

Sephiroth could sense a slow but sure twitch beginning to emerge in the left side of his face as he clenched his right fist so tightly, his knuckles went whiter than the bleach colored computer mouse next to his side.

"Error 307…" he muttered, inhaling sharply in order to calm his agitated senses. "Error 307, what will I do with you?"

With an idea springing to mind, the most cynical of smiles etched its way across his face as he recalled that the internet, the vast expanse of shared and ever growing mutual knowledge, would most surely contain something on the matter.

Seemingly pleased with his ability to resort to something other than brute strength and physical violence, he clicked for the browser to launch only to have the satisfied smirk disappear from plain sight and give way to an unimpressed scowl at the sight of another nefarious foe.

"Perhaps this must be a mistake," he shook his head in disbelief, jaw partially open.

There, sitting in full plain view, occupying the great screen, read another message.

_The web browser could not open the webpage requested. It appears the connection has timed out. Please configure your browser and/or check your local TCP/IP settings to resolve this further._

"TCP/IP? What gibberish is this?"

More nonsense and drivel. At least, as far as he was concerned. It was the work of the devil, or Hojo. It had to have been Hojo torturing him yet again with his psychotic games.

Sephiroth's left eye twitched uncontrollably twice in rapid succession and for a brief second, genuinely contemplated both impaling the middle sized PC tower before heading off in search of Hojo's head.

Yet again however, he called on his mental aptitude and concentration from his years of training, seeking to control his inner (yet dangerously threatening to emerge) turmoil.

And so, faced with another obstacle, Sephiroth decided to use his intellect once more and stumble into the control panel, searching for his internet connection options.

After a brief few moments of aimless navigation, searching for the appropriate icon, coupled with a slew of muttered obscenities, he miraculously stumbled into the appropriate section, and into the network panel.

"At last," he heaved a sigh.

The relief only managed to settle for the briefest of moments as yet again, impatience at the absurdity of the ambiguity behind the content matter surfaced, prompting the General to actually elicit a grunt of frustration.

To put things into perspective, not even the defection of his former comrade Angeal and the subsequent clash with him and Genesis had done so much as spark an ever so slight indication of an irritated glance for the briefest of moments.

Clicking on the properties of his LAN settings, Sephiroth stumbled across a series of boxes designating a series of strange looking numbers under the names of 'IP address', 'Subnet mask' and 'Default gateway'. Similarly, there were two empty slots underneath designated to 'Preferred DNS server' and 'Alternate DNS server'.

The creases on his forehead hardened further.

"Well here we are…" he muttered at his self revelation. "Some incompetent fool has left these numbers blank."

This General was not amused. The General was not amused at all. Not in the least bit.

Checking the box prompting him to enter his own designated numbers, Sephiroth began punching a series of random combinations in before yet another error box appeared, this one containing a triangular yellow sign with an exclamation mark.

_Error. 539 is not a valid entry. Please specify a number between 1 and 255._

Grinding his teeth forcefully, a habit he had made sure to avoid since his early days as a young adolescent when he didn't know better, he shook off another violent twitch in his left eye and side of his lip before proceeding to plug in a series of appropriate numbers in the slots.

With the task completed, and seemingly satisfied with himself, he clicked on the apply button and waited as the mouse took on the form of that ever so famous sand timer icon.

And he waited some more. And some more.

Soon, that expression of satisfaction disappeared at quite an astounding rate, replaced with a murderous glare set to kill.

Sensing no other alternative, and completely fed up with the stubbornness and inability of the machine to do its job properly, Sephiroth stood up in one fluid, swift motion and grabbed his Masamune from the side, tightening his left hand around the hilt.

"Do not test me machine. Do not test me. You have no idea the power you are dealing with. It is in your best interest not to make an enemy in me today or I will terminate you." When the computer refused to respond as the mouse icon continued with its sand timer icon, Sephiroth nodded. "I see you've made your decision. A foolish move." He brought up the blade across the right side of his shoulder, ready to strike in full force.

And then, as if on instinct (as if the computer had a mind of its own, fearing for its life), the sand clock timer disappeared and the mouse returned to normal, indicating the applied action had taken place.

Applying several short regulated breaths followed by one deep one, Sephiroth tightly closed his eyes and with pursed lips, proceeded to sit back down in his chair, returning the Masamune to its former place.

Cracking his knuckles, he bent forward and clicked the 'Okay' button to head out of the network connections box and closed down the encompassing control panel before returning to his main screen.

"Now I would like to you to start… for your own good," he added dangerously, eyeing the tower on the side with malicious contempt. Contempt often not even reserved for Shinra's greatest enemies.

Opening up the web browser a second time, Sephiroth waited eagerly, with his breath held in anticipation, glowing Mako eyes reflecting that urgent sense of hope he had been clinging to this entire time.

He waited until yet another message appeared.

_The internet page you are looking for could not be displayed. Please check your browser settings._

'What the-" Sephiroth quickly turned around in his dorm, surveying his surroundings in rather paranoid fashion, making sure no one was within earshot of what he was going to say next for it would be undoubtedly out of manner for his character. Seemingly satisfied that his words would be only audible to him and the demon spawn machine, he turned back and proceeded. "-hell?"

Yes, it appeared that even the mighty General of the 1st Class unit let his tongue slip from time to time, an unusual characteristic to behold for any other.

It was time, time for the great Sephiroth to do something against his will, against his pride and against his often infallible ego.

It was time to call tech support.

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Following a half hour of miscommunication, misinterpretation, a slew of condescending remarks from the General himself towards the so called "incompetent fool who doesn't know how to do his own job properly" and several repeated attempts at fixing the connection through trial and error, Sephiroth was able to at last, get his internet connection up and running.

And what a feeling it was. Such an elated feeling of great accomplishment, possibly even ranking as high as the time he had been scheduled to pick up Hojo from Junon and transport him back to Midgar before accidentally 'forgetting' to do so.

Indeed, this moment was worth a celebratory cause. Perhaps he would let the ever energetic Zack Fair drag him out on a night in the town for once, as he always insisted but was met with repeated refusals from the hard nosed General.

With a proud smile accompanying his features, Sephiroth leaned back in his chair and browsed the internet for some short time, studying various ancient melee weapons and new modern warfare potentially planned to be incorporated into Shinra's arsenal.

Following a brief search, he decided enough was enough and opted to log off the machine that had previously caused him hell for the past several hours. Not anymore however. The monster had been tamed.

Letting out a short grunt of amusement, Sephiroth shook his head and proceeded to shut the computer down. He clicked on the button signaling it to undertake the action before his eyes widened to un-Sephiroth like levels at the sign of his much despised nemesis.

"No… It can't be…"

Error 307.

_ERROR 307: HARDWARE INCOMPATABILITY FROM I/0 RANGE EC00-EC6T DETECTED._

The last thing he could recall was that twitch appearing one final time before everything went hazy as his grip tightened around his blade handle.

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"Fair?"

"Seph?" the younger SOLDIER answered back through the phone. "What's up?"

"I will be needing you to retrieve another application for me, requesting a new personal computer for my working space."

"Again? What? But I thought you just got one delivered recently. What happened to it?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line and if Zack paid enough attention, he could sense a bitter tone emanating through the line, and the unmistakable short breaths indicating a quick excuse was being formulated on the spot.

"…The machine was defective and poorly built. I will require a new one. That is all you need to know."

"All right Seph, whatever you say…"

"Fair?"

"Yeah Seph?"

"Make sure this one comes pre-installed with all the necessary requirements and files otherwise it too will find a way to become defective rather quickly."

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Notes - Awesome, my very first story. R & R please?


End file.
